


Being an Idiot (the story of Lance)

by Holle_wood



Series: Paladin Pile [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Lance angsts, Langst, M/M, Space Mom Allura (Voltron), yeah there's not really much in here tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holle_wood/pseuds/Holle_wood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lance thinks the best way to deal with a problem is to avoid it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lance isn’t quite as dumb as most people seemed to think. Sure he’s plenty dumb enough to hit on Allura as though she isn’t the most terrifyingly magnificent being alive and instead just a kid like the rest of them (a very pretty girl kid) or completely miss out on the realisation that one of his best buddies is also a girl. He is also admittedly dumb enough to trust in the affections of random alien girls and jump in front of bombs because somehow he feels less breakable than the people around him. He picks fights with adversaries way stronger than him because he doesn’t like the way they look and he’s forgotten to take a towel into the bathroom when he showers more than once.

But he isn’t dumb enough to miss the way Keith looks at Shiro.

Or the way Shiro looks after Pidge. Or how Pidge likes to sit in the general vicinity of Hunk when she works on tech. Or how Hunk seems to light up whenever Keith laughs at one of his jokes. And of course he notices the way Pidge trusts Shiro and Keith laughs with Hunk and Shiro trains with Keith and Hunk consults Pidge on his designs and suggests adjustments for hers. These things are obvious, easy to find when you know to look for them (and even if you don’t they are still hidden only in plain sight), and are all well and good in Lance’s mind except for they aren’t.

Because most importantly, Lance is smart enough to recognise that they don’t really do those things with him. Sure he and Pidge and Hunk are classmates, and he and Keith are friends (most of the time), and Shiro is invested in the training and well-being of them all, and when they are Voltron he _knows_ they’re a team. It’s only.

Lance would have to be a lot dumber than he is to not know that he was probably everyone’s least favourite Paladin.

And he’s fine with that (it’s nothing new) only he feels a little bit (a lot) left out sometimes when they pair off and do their things, and when they have to make Voltron so often these days he worries the others will see it through his mind hole and oh boy would that be embarrassing.

Lance reacts to feeling lonely the same way he’s always reacted to things (like thinking that boy across the classroom was even cuter than his girlfriend- no shit wait find a girl and hit on her) in that he over compensates and suddenly he’s even more of a clown, a flirt, a braggart and an idiot because at least then they’re paying attention (not the kind he wants- the kind they show each other) only to the most obvious stuff and they don’t see the rest.

He’ll fake it till he makes it.

Again, Lance is the dumb one (just not dumb enough).

.

(It was Hunk and Pidge first.)

“Hey Hunk! Pidge! You guys in here!”

Lance strode into one of the Castle of Lions’ many large tech bays, having been reliably informed by Coran as he and Allura left to cement relations with the latest set of locals hosting the castle, that his ex-classmates now teammates were working together on an upgrade for the Yellow Lion. Unfortunately Coran did not know in which part of the castle the collaboration was taking place, so Lance had checked a few already.

He was bored. It would have been easier to find Shiro or Keith (literally _always_ on the training deck), but he was longing for a reminder of home. Hanging with his old flight academy buddies seemed the best option.

“Hello? Guys?”

Lance stepped further into the room, noting Pidge’s computer on the desk hooked up to a complicated looking engine. He peered around the corner of the desk in time to hear Pidge squawk and the very familiar sound of Hunk falling on his ass. Lance blinked. For a moment the sight failed to compute.

Pidge struggled to hurriedly straighten the collar of her jumper, face flushed and hair in even wilder disarray than usual. Beside her, Hunk struggled back upright, as though he’d been abruptly pushed backwards. Lance felt his eyes flick to their suspiciously swollen lips (oh, that was- something) and a faint bruise visible under Hunk’s left ear that hadn’t been there at breakfast. Lance’s brain finally managed to piece together puzzle and it came together with a satisfying (painful) inevitability. He stared at his friends, lips twitching upwards and the clown in him rising to cover anything else he might be feeling.

“What!” Snapped Pidge after a long moment of silence and under the judgement of Lance’s slowly widening smirk (fake it till you make it). Hunk said nothing; face still buried in his knees and probably a hilarious (nice) shade of pink; if Lance knew anything about his friend.

“Ah never mind,” Lance said slyly, lacing his hands behind his head and grinning. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt any project you got going on here.”

He started to back away casually (he wanted to run until the sick twisted feeling in his gut loosened and disappeared) turning to leave once his friends were out of sight. The smile that slipped through as he left, when Hunk let out an embarrassed wail and Pidge a muffled groan, was slightly more real. The guys were incredibly easy to rile.

(Keith and Shiro came next.)

So Lance walked onto the training deck a few days later, minding his own business, ready to insult Keith’s mullet and have a good old-fashioned throw down with team Voltron’s combat specialists. 

Instead he got an eyeful of Keith shoved up against the wall with his hands carving handholds into Shiro’s biceps whilst the man in question assaulted Keith’s mouth with his face (actually they were pressed tightly together kissing passionately and holy cats was Lance grateful for his body’s state of cold shock because this could’ve been a lot more embarrassing than it already was).

Lance very deliberately ignored Keith’s flushed, ruffled expression (there was just something about Keith – there always had been) to fix a horrified gaze on a very contrite and awkward looking Shiro.  He half-raised his hands, placating and opened his mouth to say something before stumbling over the fact that he really had nothing to say. Lance pushed everything else deep down and cut him off.

“Oh my god, guys! Take pity on my virgin eyes sweet _jesus_! Shiro what were you even _thinking_ you could get tangled in that mullet and no one would find you for _years_.”

Keith got his feet under him again, adjusting his shirt as he did so, and rolled his eyes. Shiro blinked before a reluctantly amused grin crept onto his face.

“Oh come on,” Keith muttered with an air of long-suffering. “Not this again.”

“That’s my line!” Lance insisted with distress (partly because dear lord what was his life and also because Keith’s flustered expression had faded to a mere faint blush and Shiro had taken another step back to chuckle indulgently under his breath). “You’re the ones being all totally PDA in a public space! Where any poor innocent unsuspecting bystanders can just walk in! But you know what? As long as we all promise to _never talk about it again_ I might yet survive with my sensibilities intact. Okay? Okay.”

He walked out muttering outraged comments under his breath just loud enough for Keith and Shiro to hear as he stormed away dramatically (fake it till you make it).

(Then Pidge and Shiro.)

“Shiro! Pidge!” Lance whined in distress. “This is like the third time already. We live in a huge castle and there are only _seven of us_ , it can’t be too hard to just _get a room_!”

“Ahem, I- well I didn’t think-”

“We’re in a room. Maybe _you_ should learn to knock.”

“On what?! It doesn’t have a door you heathen!”

“You could knock on your head. Should ring like a bell because it’s _empty_!”

“Kids! Just play nice, okay? Sorry you saw . . . that, Lance.”

“Whatever, man. I’m going anyway. I hope your love life’s worth the loss of my innocence!”

(Hunk and Keith)

That he witnessed that particular midnight kitchen rendezvous was a secret that Lance was taking to his grave (he went back to bed hungry, empty-handed _and_ cold).

(Pidge and Hunk and Shiro)

They were supposed to be _working_ , Lance thought dazedly as he turned on his heel and strode out with a yelp (though in all fairness to Shiro being double-teamed like that probably _was_ a lot of work oh my god Lance shut up what even).

.

(Hunk and Pidge and Keith and Shiro and holy shit was Lance tired).

They were everywhere. In the kitchen, in the living areas, the training room, the hangers and in his head every other day as they fought Galrans (and boy was that last one a kicker- if Lance was just a little more thoughtless when fighting nowadays, a little more recklessly distracting well, who would expect any differently from _Lance_? Who had to know why?)

Every time he saw two of his team mates together it was like a punch to the chest that he had to ignore and play off. Crack a few jokes, pick a fight with Keith, tease Hunk, and leave. Wash, rinse, repeat (fake it till you make it). He can’t even avoid them, not completely, because defending the universe required training and anyway, why would extroverted, homesick Lance be avoiding his teammates when he should want company? He should at least be hanging out with Hunk, who had been his friend longer than the others and watched him nowadays like something was slightly off but he couldn’t put his finger on it (Lance _was_ sorry they didn’t spend as much time together as they used to).

His cheeks hurt from smiling, his body hurt from fighting, his head hurt from overthinking and his heart hurt from things he couldn’t pretend weren’t there anymore. Eventually he had to throw in the towel and spend more time flirting with Allura (because if he didn’t they’d ask _why_ ) as she went about her daily business.

Which was fine, until Allura decided to point out she’d known something was wrong all along because ‘hello’ it was Allura and honestly Lance admires her too much to actually envision a romance between them that isn’t just a few silly jokes and terrible pickup lines between friends (which is a relief because Lance finds it all too easy to imagine a romance these days).

.

Allura sighed, putting aside her tablet and addressing the boy sitting opposite her. And Lance honestly was just a boy by the standards of a wartime princess. A very tired looking and stressed boy who seemed to be trying really hard not to show what he was actually feeling, as he lounged on a couch and stared at the roof morosely.

She frowned. He had been spending an inordinate amount of time following her around of late, lifting boxes and asking questions if you will. Allura didn’t mind so much, especially as his flirting felt more token nowadays, friendly teasing that was comfortable and almost endearing in its familiarity. But it meant he was spending significantly less time with his fellow paladins, and Coran, who was usually with the team or running castle maintenance during the day. The self-inflicted separation appeared to be taking a toll on him. She had been inclined to believe it was homesickness again at first (poor Lance struggled with it so much more than the others), except that he was endeavouring to follow _her_ around, and not gazing at milky way constellations on the bridge.

“Lance?” She called softly but firmly. Lance seemed to startle out of his thoughts, turning to look at her listlessly until he snapped back to himself and slipped on the badly made mask that he’d made for himself (could the other paladins not see it?) and grinned.

“Yeah Princess?” He asked with forced cheer. “Need something?”

“Lance,” Allura said again, frown deepening. She leaned forward to grasp the hand that was dangling from the couch. Lance startled and gazed down at their hands as though stunned.

“I uh-”

“Lance is something wrong?” Allura interrupted gently, holding his hand firmly. She noted idly that his skin ran very hot as he stiffened and went to pull away.

“Haha what do you mean Princess?” He tried quickly, forced laughter failing to hide the rising panic in his tone.

“Lance you must know that you can share with me anything that troubles you,” Allura continued, watching the tension rise in Lance’s posture as spoke. “As princess of Altea it is my duty to serve the paladins of Voltron to the best of my ability.”

Lance flinched slightly, as though her words had caused him some kind of discomfort. She saw him start to withdraw, to work up a way to flippantly cast aside her concern. This was not the reaction she had hoped for; Allura paused to assess where she had misspoken. Considering his distant attitude recently . . .

“And I am also your friend, Lance,” Allura added gently, grasping his hand tighter and forcing him to look her in the eye. “I like to help my friends whenever and however I can. And I sense,” she paused briefly to frowned in concern as Lance seemed to shrink under her gaze. “That you could perhaps use a sympathetic ear?”

Allura congratulated herself with a sense of relief as Lance eased slightly, his troubled expression telling her it was more the subject matter of the discussion than any distrust of her that lead to his reluctance to confide in her. She waited patiently as Lance fluctuated between looking at their joined hands, the floor and her face. She smiled encouragingly every time their eyes met.

“Uh, yeah, thanks princess. It’s just . . . look it’s kind of a ‘me’ problem, y’know? An ‘all in my head’ kind of thing. So I appreciate that you’re asking, but you can’t really help because the only problem is that I need to sort myself out,” Lance said finally. He seemed to struggle with his thoughts for a moment. This could be homesickness he was talking about . . . but avoiding the others still didn’t make sense. Allura decided to take a risk.

“Has it got something to do with you and the other paladins?” She enquired mildly.

Lance started violently, head snapping up and his expression stricken. _Ah, so that is it._

“What? Why would you think that? _How did you know?_ ” He babbled. Allura tolerated it for a few seconds more before gently interceding.

“Lance,” she injected firmly. He shut up abruptly, and flush barely visible under his tan skin. He was the only paladin with skin nearly as dark as hers, she thought idly as she considered how to draw the truth from him; Allura enjoyed the familiarity of it. She decided the direct approach was the only way to go with Lance.

“Why do you avoid your other friends, Lance?” She asked. “Did something happen? I promise to listen without judgement,” Allura added solemnly as Lance actually appeared to consider answering her. He deliberated for a second more before seeming to decide that answering was inevitable when faced with Allura’s ability to talk circles around people. Or perhaps it was just a desire to finally confide his troubles.

“It’s more . . . It’s more what didn’t happen,” he said hoarsely. Allura considered that. There had been nothing in their recent relations with natives or clashes with the Galra that would fit in with Lance’s answer or behaviour. So the problem had to be an internal one. It was also not related to herself and Coran, therefore it must also be paladin-specific. Allura turned some ideas over in her head, before she came to a decision and reached out one hand to tilt up Lance’s chin, thumb brushing across his cheek.

“The romantic relationships between the other paladins are the problem,” Allura ventured questioningly. Lance just looked at her, tired and upset, his mask finally gone.

“They’re not a problem. The guys are happy. They’re fine. They’re fine without-” he corrected dully, cutting himself off abruptly and flushing. _Without me,_ Allura heard unspoken at the end of the sentence, and pictured in the way Lance was part ashamed, part resigned.

And then it all clicked into place. Allura had been so puzzled because she had made one critically incorrect assumption about Lance for the entirety of this whole mess.

Of all the paladins, Lance had been the most removed from Voltron and their crusade against the Galra Empire emotionally. He had a loving family back on Earth (unlike Keith) and no personal vendetta (unlike Shiro, Pidge and Hunk post –Shay). He had seemed more emotionally distant from his teammates too, only in the way that he didn’t seem to need them in the same way the others were coming together to fill the absence of family, so strong was his attachment to his own family on Earth. Allura had assumed that the exclusion of Lance from the romantic entanglements that had formed between the other paladins had been primarily from a lack of interest on his part, because she hadn’t thought the other paladins (if not all of them then at least Keith, surely) disinterested. Only Lance was telling her now that he-

 _Oh no,_ thought Allura. _Oh my, this will not do._

Lance seemed to flush a deeper red, and grow more ashamed of his longing as Allura’s silence stretched. She thought the situation through. Finally she retracted her hands from Lance’s, watching him tense in nervous anticipation with a quiet sympathy. She didn’t leave him long to dwell on it, grasping his head gently with her hands and bringing his head down as she leaned in.

Allura pressed a kiss to his forehead, just below the hairline, and pulled back to look him in the eye.

“I am sorry,” she said sincerely. “That you feel this way. I don’t know if this makes it any better, but I am glad that you shared your troubles with me regardless. I hope you will do so again if there is a need.”

“My mom does that,” Lance answered. He leant his head against her shoulder and she felt the tension slide out of his body, like a weight had lifted off of him. Allura tactfully chose not to notice any sniffling she may have heard.

They pulled apart after a little while, Lance red-eyed but more cheerful than he’d been in weeks, and Allura picking up her tablet and settling in to finish the task she had abandoned in lieu of comforting Lance.

Eventually Lance left to feed his grumbling stomach, smiling at her so genuinely that Allura felt she had made the right decision to talk to him, even though it had left worries in her mind and a problem to solve.

.

She strode into the favoured lounge of the paladins later that day when she knew Lance and Coran were mutually occupied elsewhere on the Castle with cleaning. Her stride was purposeful and her eyes were fiery. Allura was on a mission. She had a duty as Princess to help the paladins achieve the best cohesion as a unit as was possible, and she also had a duty as their friend to help make them their happiest. And she saw no way in which leaving a willing Lance out of their arrangement could contribute to that goal.

She had her plan of attack sorted out, and the easiest way to make the paladins think about their relationships with one another with minimal interference was to remind them of a drop in Voltron synching.

“Good afternoon Paladins,” She started confidently, commanding attention from everyone in the room. The three younger pilots were on the crescent couch, Hunk and Pidge sitting together (very close, Allura observed) and Keith lying at the other end, hands behind his head. Shiro was standing against the wall. He smiled at her.

“Hey Princess, what’s going on?” He asked. Allura fixed him with her best concerned frown and watched his face become more serious.

“I have been observing your battle performance and as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, there’s been a drop in your teamwork as Voltron. I thought I might come enquire as to why?”

Shiro’s face cleared in understanding and he nodded, sighing. “I wish _I_ knew,” he answered. “We’ve never been closer than we are now.” Allura stared him down incredulously, surely they had noticed, right? Shiro seemed to misinterpret her gaze and flushed slightly.

“Closer as a team,” he clarified quickly. Pidge let out a snort from the couch and weathered the disapproving looks from Hunk and Keith with her usual level of consideration for other people’s feelings. Which is to say, none at all. Allura ignored the exchange, pulling them back on track.

“All of you?” Allura asked Shiro casually, trying not to look pointedly around the room at who was present. Or not present, as the case may be. “Can you think of any reason you might be less connected?”

“No,” Shiro answered in a troubled tone. “Not any reason that makes sense.” Allura implored the other paladins in the room to rescue their leader. Pidge seemed less than concerned by the whole thing and Keith seemed more worried about the nap he had been taking. Hunk on the other hand seemed to maybe have an inkling of what Allura was getting at, possibly because he’d felt the absence of his friend more keenly than the others.

“Lance hasn’t been around as much,” Hunk said quietly. The other paladins seemed to disregard this as a reason, as Allura saw no dawning realisation on any of the faces in the room. Without validation for his suggestion Hunk seemed to put his own idea aside. Allura pursed her lips.

“Then perhaps the trouble lies with Lance,” Allura hinted more firmly, temper rising. Her attempts to steer the conversation were once again stone-walled by an oblivious paladin. She had assumed Lance was disinterested in the others, but she did not spend time in his head. Surely they should have noticed something before, even if it had taken Allura longer?

“Lance?” Asked Shiro blankly. “Is something wrong with him?”

“Of course something is wrong with him!” Allura cried in frustration, finally losing her patience. The other paladins jumped at her sudden change of tone. Hunk and Pidge on the couch looked up from Pidge’s tablet and Keith had his eyes open and directed at Allura. She continued, simultaneously exasperated and baffled. “I don’t know if this is some Earth custom that I am missing, and I apologise for any offense if so, but even someone as brash as Lance will wait for an invitation. So _why_ do you not invite him to join you? I see no reason that you should not, seeing as you clearly want each other.”

Her outburst was met with stunned silence. Allura waited more patiently this time; her questions had surely been asked unambiguously enough for even this lot.

“Lance- wait _what_?” Hunk finally choked out. Allura turned a stern eye on him.

“You have neglected him, so Voltron suffers, and Lance suffers. I will apologise for my forthrightness but I wish to know why.”

“We _neglected Lance_?” Shiro asked again and Allura almost threw up her hands. “I do not know! He certainly thinks you have,” She said, aggravated. Shiro opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted.

“We didn’t!” Cut in Keith. Allura turned to face him and found the glaring eyes of the red lion paladin staring her down fiercely. “We wouldn’t- _I_ wouldn’t,” he said with conviction. Allura assessed him for a moment, and finding no lie in his eyes was once again confused.

“Then why does he think he is not welcome?” She questioned, voice softened. Pidge answered with an abrupt and slightly amusing curse. Her head was tilted back and her palms were raised and pressed to her eyes in what Allura assumed was a show of aggravation similar to what she herself had been feeling moments before.

“Because he’s an idiot,” she groaned from the couch. Allura settled her mood, finally having received a satisfactory answer to her question. She assessed the other paladins; Hunk looked as though something was dawning on him and he didn’t like it. Shiro rubbed one eye and his brow as he sighed half amused and half despairing.

“Lance is most certainly an idiot,” he confirmed with a half-hearted chuckle. Keith snorted and stood almost violently.

“You can say that again,” he muttered venomously under his breath. He stormed from the room in a mood that left the air feeling scorched in his wake. Allura watched him go with the sneaking suspicion that she could have helped, or possibly doomed Lance by clearing up the misunderstanding.

“Go get him babe,” Pidge called after him. Allura was almost certain she was being sarcastic but with Pidge you could never tell for certain.

“Well I hope this has been informative for everyone. Good luck paladins, Coran and I will see you bright and early tomorrow for training,” Allura concluded as she turned and swept from the room, decidedly washing her hands of the whole business. She had done her job as a leader and now it was her subjects’ job to sort out their interpersonal relationships. She hoped Coran had some snacks cooked up for her, unknotting this whole ridiculous mess of paladins had left her with quite an appetite.

.

“Hey Asshole!”

Lance spun around abruptly, arms full of washcloths and a bucket of soapy water. His mouth dropped open and he experienced a moment of involuntary panic at the sight of an absolutely _furious_ Keith descending down upon him with the rage of the gods. He immediately betrayed himself by squeaking and dropping the cleaning supplies on the floor, his arms coming up to protect his face.

“ _What?_ ” He demanded defensively. “I haven’t done anything mullet man.”

Keith stopped in front of him and snorted derisively, fists balled at his side. “That’s right you idiot, you haven’t _done anything_. Because you’re a _moron_.”           

Lance felt himself bristle in response to Keith automatically, panic fading abruptly. A familiar voice in the back of his head snapped its fingers in a sassy rendition of ‘ _oh_ _no he didn’t_ ’.

“What the hell’s your problem, dude? We haven’t even spoken today,” Lance snapped, hands going to his hips. Keith’s dark eyes burned as he advanced. Lance refused to back down, so they ended up chest to chest, Keith’s nose a scant 6 inches from his. Lance ignored the burn of something he refused to name in his stomach and instead focused on his slowly rising anger. Keith didn’t seem to care.

“My _problem_ is that you’re an insecure, stupid dumbass who thought it was a better idea to cry by himself in the corner than simply _ask us_.”

“Ask you what?” Lance demanded furiously, scowling now. “What are you even talking about?”

Keith’s face contorted in fury.

“Ask us if we _wanted you too_! Because obviously not saying anything and pretending you don’t is not working, which you’d know, if you weren’t so dumb and bent on avoiding us and compromising Voltron and all to sooth your wounded maidenly soul.”

“Uh . . . huh?”

The anger went out of Lance like a balloon and at first all he could comprehend was the sinking, afraid feeling in his chest that said ‘now you’ve done it’. His face paled considerably and though he wanted nothing more than to look (run) away, he just stared at Keith. Keith, who was almost visible fuming, Keith, who was so _angry_ at him. Abruptly Lance’s face flooded with blood and he dropped his eyes, shamed, to somewhere half way down Keith’s chest, suddenly even more hyperaware of where it pressed against his own. Pushing himself away, Lance flushed even further.

“I, um. I uh-” he struggled in a weak voice to find an explanation, an easy way of saying ‘I’m sorry but it’s fine, I’ll get it under control and then Voltron will be at his strongest again and we never have to talk about this again’ when really he kind of wanted to cry in embarrassment and wanting, preferably on Allura’s comforting, warm, nice-smelling shoulder again. Then Lance heard Keith sigh in a way that didn’t really sound angry anymore.

“Stop that idiot,” he muttered and Lance felt hands cup his face and lift it. Then Keith stepped in close again and pressed his mouth to Lance’s. Everything in Lance’s brain promptly short circuited and he froze. Keith pressed insistently against his mouth anyway, and when his hand slid along Lance’s cheek into his hair Lance was _gone_.

His eyes snapped shut, his arms stretched from his side to wrap around Keith’s waist and he melted into the other boy, a hoarse sound escaping his throat. Keith’s lips were chapped, like Lance’s (because for all his beauty routines he was still a teenage boy) but so warm that all Lance registered was a soft press of them against his own. And then Keith coaxed his mouth open and suddenly it wasn’t a soft kiss anymore and holy hell was Keith hot, he’d always been hot but Lance couldn’t accept that until now and okay he was lost again.

It was a while before he found himself again and when he did it was to Keith’s small smile, and arms wrapped around him. Lance slowly grinned back goofily, weight streaming off his shoulders like water as he recognised the promise in Keith’s eyes.

“That was nice,” Lance said.

“Of course it was idiot. Now let’s go back the lounge, the others are waiting.”

.

And though he’d never say it out loud, Keith was right.

Later, after Shiro pushed him down into a bed and kissed him until he was dizzy, after Pidge had pressed against his chest and aggressively run her hands through his hair, after Hunk had sat behind him bracingly, pressing warm kisses to his neck, and of course after Keith had set his blood on fire again in the best way. Lance- Lance was fully convinced.

“I am an idiot,” he conceded into the dark, quiet room. Around him, the others stirred briefly. Hunk’s chest to his back, Keith’s head on his shoulder, Pidge curling around them from above and Shiro on Keith’s other side.

“Like, yeah,” Pidge agreed. “Now shut up and sleep.”

Lance grinned, and did.                                                                                                  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so you guys, as my lovely readers, have bought it to my attention that apparently the Langst was too much Langst and my piddling attempt at fluff provided to compensate was lacking. Thus I must fix the destruction I have wrought and present to you: 'Lance the Lovely Lego tower is rebuilt even more beautiful than before after author smashed him all over the tiles and her readers walked on the pieces in the middle of the night on their way to get a glass of sweet, nourishing water'.
> 
> In the words of a wise man: “As you can see from my class project we’re all fucking idiots.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a mess but it took me a long time and if I don’t post it now it’s never going up. Langst inclusive, and now with added Hangst, a pinch of Pangst and some positive character development to finish it off and sooth all the pain I apparently caused with part one. Also Allura.

Basically when it comes to interpersonal relationships the key is communication. Talking about how you feel is critical, and making sure that, whoever you’re talking about, someone hears you do it is advisable. That last part is obviously the trickiest. Because some things are things that can be kept to yourself; other things are things you should tell people. Lance apparently has great difficulty distinguishing between the two.

It makes it so much harder to work out what someone really wants and needs if everything they do says they want the opposite, or that they don’t want anything at all. _Harder, but not impossible_.

Okay so maybe Lance is an idiot, but god knows he’s not the only one kicking around this ship.

Hunk has spent several agonising weeks unable to really enjoy having his friend by his side again (and in his bed), instead caught up in the impossibility of _how did he miss this?_ Oh so he starts up a relationship with his other team mates and all of a sudden Lance takes a leave of absence from the huge space he usually occupies in any given room? What could that possibly suggest about how Lance feels? Who knows? Certainly not Hunk, who, you know, is only his _best friend_ and all.

“Would you stop that?”

Pidge’s irate voice echoed from the floor, where she was messing around with Allura’s main tablet. It had decided, in the temperamental way of all Altean biotech, to stop working following a brief but messy tumble into Hunk’s latest alien approximation of lasagne at dinner the night before. Obviously Allura had a multitude of tablets stashed about the castle, but was adamant that this one in particular was her favourite. And what Allura wants, Allura gets. Especially since Hunk hadn’t even looked her in the eye when she came to drop it off.

“Stop what? Pacing? No, no I can’t. I am freaking out, I’m a mess. Lance is a mess. We’re _all_ a mess. I need to _do_ something but what would I do? How do I even start?”

Pidge let out a long-suffering sigh.

“It’s not like he’s mad at you. Just go be dumb with him for a while and you’ll feel better,” Pidge said. Her next few stabs at the tablet were particularly vicious. “Though you’ll probably have to pry Keith’s tongue from his throat first,” She added in a mutter.

Hunk came to an abrupt stop, staring her down, though he did agree with her to some degree.  Lance and Keith were very . . . amorous nowadays, given that all their fights now ended a very different way and all that tension had to go _somewhere_. Pidge stubbornly kept working until the pressure of his judgement got to her a minute later and she pushed the tablet away, clenching her fists in disgust.

“Maybe he’s not mad at us, but don’t you think he should be?” Hunk said quietly, a frown forming on his face. Pidge’s shoulders hunched inwards and she curled herself even smaller into her lap.

“Of course he should!” She snapped half-heartedly. “But he’s not! What would you want me to do about it anyway? _You_ don’t even know what to do about it, and you’re his best friend.”

“Really?” Hunk muttered dejectedly as he sat down on the stool he’d been using before the inner turmoil of his thoughts had driven him to pace frantically. “Pretty sure Allura is better at being his best friend than me lately.” And wasn’t that the truth? Allura had come and rubbed their noses in it until they realised that no, Lance wasn’t in love with her (except he kind of was in this slightly weird, worshipful way) and he may be missing his family but they weren’t all he was missing. Of all them, Lance hadn’t been the one Hunk expected to need an invitation. Which in hindsight was even more stupid because of all of them, he was the one who knew Lance the best.

Knew that Lance wasn’t as straight as he liked to pretend, that Lance worried incessantly that his piloting skills were never going to improve, that his family would adapt to life without him a little too well while he was away. And most importantly, Hunk knew that anyone finding those things out would be terrible in Lance’s mind, because he didn’t know that Hunk already knew them and loved his friend anyway.

And that was the real kicker; Lance didn’t trust him enough to tell him any of these things. Hunk had to guess. 

_What did any of it matter anyway?_ Hunk asked himself in disgust.  _You took him at face value like everyone else when he really needed you to notice, because you were too caught up in yourself._

“I have to talk to him, but I don’t even know where to start,” He said tiredly. Pidge pursed her lips and sank her chin onto drawn up knees. “Maybe by saying sorry?” She ventured. “And then do your job I guess.” Hunk frowned at her.

“My job?”

Pidge spoke very slowly, as though to someone very stupid (and Hunk agreed he might be, just a little, when he finally understood her meaning).

“Your job, Hunk. You fix things, and then make sure they won’t break again.”

Oh. Everything clicked into place and Hunk felt a grin light up his face. He jumped off the stool and hauled Pidge to her feet by the arms. He cut off her squawk with a warm kiss, pressing his forehead against hers after he pulled back.

“What are you doing?” Pidge tried to affect an air of long suffering, but her cheeks were too flushed to pull off the air of haughty distance required.

“You may be a prickly, prickly cactus Pidge, but you’re also awesome. Thanks.”

Pidge flushed brighter. “Yeah yeah,” she muttered, a small grin forming under the red. “Go get him tiger.” Hunk kissed her again before he put her down, lightening quick, and watched Pidge steady herself afterwards with an air of satisfaction.

“I won’t be back for a while,” he called out over his shoulder as he bounced from the room. He could hear rather than see the salacious grin on Pidge’s face as she waved him off with a sly, joking, “Yeah, I bet you won’t.”

It didn’t take Hunk long to find Lance. That’s because he went straight to the training deck where, low and behold, Lance and Keith were training together. And by training he meant playing a rather intense game of tonsil hockey because it was Lance and Keith and this was their new alternative to punching it out. He registered it as kind of strange as he walked in that Shiro wasn’t with them but then it was a warm planet and Shiro generally made for too much hot in the room when you were working out.

“Hunk,” Keith panted when he finally detached himself from Lance’s neck long enough to notice Hunk watching them (granted Hunk may have held off on the ‘announcing of his presence’ because whowza that was a pretty sight- short, pale Keith shoving a tall, tanned Lance into the wall and kissing him senseless) and that he had the look of a man on a mission. Lance took a little longer to uncross his eyes and come back to he senses, looking distinctly ravaged (particularly about the neck) as he did.

 “Hey guys, I can see you’re busy, but I kind of need to talk to Lance,” Hunk said, eyes fixed on Lance’s neck. Keith laughed.

“Nah, just settling a disagreement, he’s all yours,” Keith’s mouth said. _He’s all yours until I come back later to settle another disagreement_ , Keith’s eyes said.

“I won,” Lance interjected, finally coherent once more and putting on an easy care-free grin that still seemed just a little wobbly around the edges. Keith snorted.

“Yeah, right.”

“I did!”

“Let’s see what Hunk thinks, shall we?” Keith asked, both mildly (and rhetorically, as Hunk promptly found out). Twenty seconds later Hunk’s knees were also wobbly and Keith was pulling away, dark eyes burning. Lance made an appreciative noise that promptly became a protest as Keith turned a triumphant smirk on him.

“Sweet Jesus,” Hunk managed.

“I rest my case,” Keith said smugly. He was equally smug sashaying out of the room (and he was sashaying. Hunk knew a sashay when he saw one) and sliding the door to the deck closed behind him. Lance heckled him until the door closed and then whistled low once he knew Keith couldn’t hear him.

“Damn,” He sighed. “Anyway, what’s up my man?”

The gleeful emphasis on the ‘my’ caught Hunk up for a second a he spent a minute returning Lance’s goofy grin with one of his own. Until Lance made a questioning noise, that is, and Hunk abruptly remembered that he had another reason for being here. He took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I need to talk to you,” He started slowly. Lance nodded agreeably.

“So you said. What can I do for you?”

“It’s something serious,” Hunk said.  Lance nodded again.

“Yep, I’m all ears.”

“It’s about . . . us.”

“Uh-huh.”

Lance tilted his head, a little bemused. Hunk realised that he had not put enough emphasis on the ‘us’ to make it through a head as thick as Lance’s (the guy did not have a good track record as far as this particular topic was concerned).

“Us as in the team us,” Hunk clarified. He swallowed.  “And how long it took for ‘us’ to include you. And why that sucked.”

Lance’s face cleared and he affected a chagrined look, running his hands through his hair and shuffling his feet sheepishly. Hunk knew immediately that Lance’s train of thought was not aligning with his own. He tried again.

“Look, I just think we need to talk about it. Clear the air and all-”

“Hey dude, we’ve all said it,” Lance cut in, grinning easily, arms still stretched up with his hands locked behind his head (Hunk determinedly did not notice the bruised collarbone showing from under his shirt because he needed to focus but damn Keith was like some kind of overly affectionate _piranha_ and that should not be as hot as it was). “I’m an idiot, and no harm done, right? So we can let it go?” That particular sentiment resonated with Hunk in a very sudden and negative way.

“Yes harm done! And no we can’t!” Hunk cried in abrupt frustration. Lance came to attention immediately and looked at Hunk with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, completely caught off guard. His hands lowered slowly and the casual ease of his good mood stuttered to a halt.

“Uh, I’m sorry?” He ventured hesitantly, clearly having no idea what had set Hunk off in such a way but bowing to the age old tradition of immediate surrender. His uncertainty was actually pretty understandable, and Hunk might have taken a second to calm down, except now his abundance of feelings were projecting everywhere and clearly not going away. Hunk groaned helplessly and pushed his hands against his eyes.

“No _I’m_ sorry! You should be upset!”

“Sorry? Upset? Wha- why?” Lance sputtered, completely baffled. “What is going on here dude?”

“Look, I’m not saying it was all on us,” Hunk began slowly, calming his voice. Lance seemed to relax a little bit, if only so he could look more confused. “Just that we assumed an awful lot instead of just _asking_ too. And the end result sucked for _everyone_ , but most particularly you.”

There was a brief pause following that, then Lance’s lips parted in a soft ‘oh’ of comprehension. He dropped his eyes to the ground immediately. His hands slid impulsively for his pockets and all of a sudden Hunk was looking at the top of his head as he let it hang down. Probably to avoid Hunk seeing his face, even though he still could and Lance looked both anxious and a tad desperate (oh boy we cannot let this one go, Hunk thought).

“Seriously dude,” Lance insisted weakly. “ _Seriously_. No harm done. We can drop it.”

“No _dude_ ,” Hunk insisted right back, stepping in close to grasp Lance’s shoulders and force his gaze up. Lance leaned away slightly, which kind of hurt but Hunk was mostly certain it was Lance running away from his own feelings rather than Hunk himself.

“Pretty sure a fair bit of harm was done, and if we sweep it under the rug now it’ll happen again later and Lance-” Hunk paused to move one hand to the side of his head, watching as Lance’s eyes became slightly frantic and red around the edges. “I really don’t want to be missing you again later.”

“You won’t- I won’t do it again,” Lance answered with a shaky laugh, still trying to play it off. “Don’t worry man. I’m not gonna- I won’t act all messed up again. I was dumb but now we’re cool, it’s cool. No worries. Everyone’s happy.” He hunched in on himself slightly, still trying to hide subconsciously.

“Are you?” Hunk asked quietly, observing the other boy carefully and finding something he did not like. “If we all hopped into Voltron right now and I had a peek through your mind hole is that what I would see?”

Lance looked like he’d been slapped. He panicked briefly, like a man who saw the train coming but had no idea how to get out of the way. Hunk followed this as it played out on his face and sighed internally.

“ _Of course I’m happy why wouldn’t I be happy?_ ” Lance squeaked out high and fast and breathy.

“Because I don’t know if I’d be too happy,” Hunk began slowly. “If _I_ thought the team didn’t value _my_ feelings.” Lance opened his mouth for another desperate protest, Hunk cut him off.

“You must think that, man. If you thought we’d be okay with you pulling away and being all miserable by yourself. Actually, if you thought we cared about you less than we cared about each other.”

Lance swallowed heavily. “Um,” he said. Hunk shook his head.

“It’s not true. Whatever’s going through your head when you decide to not tell me when you’re upset or when you’re hurt by something, I’m telling you now. Don’t listen to it. I want to know,” Hunk said earnestly, waiting to give Lance a chance to speak. Lance said nothing, his eyes suspiciously shiny and face contorted as though he was struggling with himself. _Okay, not yet_ , Hunk thought.

Instead of saying anything else he reached out and pulled Lance into a firm hug, giving him no option to escape. When Lance’s arms came up automatically to loosely grasp Hunk’s jacket, Hunk sighed in relief. He turned his head to press his face against Lance’s hair.

“I’m sorry for not saying this sooner. Think about it, okay?”

“Sure.”

Lance managed one hoarse word into Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk thought that was a good enough start to be getting on with.

.

Allura looked up as the door to the office she was occupying slid open with a low hiss. She was unsurprised to see Lance walk through, and flashed him a brief smile before focusing her attention on piece of paper resting in front of her once more. Contrary to her expectations, Lance was still very frequently seeking out her company, despite his reconciliations (and newly established relationships) with his fellow Paladins. Allura had grown used to his presence following her around or sitting with her for at least a portion of most days.

She honestly liked it.

Lance didn’t flirt anymore, at least not in any way that wasn’t just a sincere appreciation of Allura herself. He didn’t boast unless he was cracking a joke or talking about a recent contest with Keith (such a strange way Earthlings had of romancing someone) and though his jokes were corny and ridiculous he managed drag at least a few smiles out of her every day. And that seemed to be the goal. Lance sought her out with the intention of making her was happy.

He brought her things when she asked, offered opinions (earnest if not particularly helpful) on any problems she might have that day and simply lounged around unobtrusively when she was too busy concentrating on something to talk.

At first Allura had been surprised, and mentioned it to Lance himself with an air of curiosity, “While I very much appreciate your assistance, Lance, isn’t there anything else you could be doing?”

“Could be doing? Sure. Would _rather_ be doing . . .?” Lance deliberately trailed off the last question dubiously with a grin, and winked at Allura as he handed her a glass of water from the jug on the table across the room. Allura had smiled, politely baffled, and thanked him. Lance had read her confusion on her face and smiled more honestly.

“I like hanging out with you, we’re friends aren’t we?”

Looking into his big, earnest blue eyes Allura had felt the beginnings of a blush in her cheeks that she had crushed with a ruthlessness usually reserved for the Galra Empire. It was so much better see Lance when he was happy.

“Yes,” she had agreed. “We are friends.”

And that had brought her to now, where Lance was often around offering assistance or wanting to talk. Speaking of which, Allura noticed that rather than settle down one of the couches in the office, Lance had drawn out the chair opposite Allura at the desk and taken a seat. She raised an eyebrow in question and Lance cleared his throat.

“Hey Princess, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something? It’s kind of personal,” Lance asked hesitantly. Allura put down her pen and gave him her full attention. It was rare that Lance _offered_ to confide in anyone, as far as she could tell.

“I- well it’s um. I . . .” Lance struggled to find the words and trailed off.

“Is it about the other paladins?” Allura inquired helpfully. Lance scrunched his nose and sighed, trying to organise his thoughts.

“Yes- no, well kind of. It’s more about me but they’re in there a little?” Lance rubbed at his nose furiously while Allura hummed thoughtfully and indicated that he should continue.

“I had a . . . talk with Hunk yesterday. And he said some stuff about me thinking I’m less important than everyone else and not telling anyone I do and that I shouldn’t. He was really worked up.” Lance was frowning at the table top by the time he finished. Allura considered that for a moment. She knew this problem would arise again, and was pleased that Hunk had recognised it for himself.

“Do you?” She asked. Lance’s head snapped up.

“No!” He protested vehemently. Allura observed him evenly until he relented.  “I mean I don’t . . . think I’m less important? Like I know I’m not the most likable guy all the time, or the best pilot or anything but it’s not like I actively hang around thinking I suck. I mean, if nothing else I’m like, one hundred million times better than _Keith_ -”

Allura noted that jab seemed to be added on out of habit more than anything else-

“You’ve heard me! I’m always explaining how awesome I am,” Lance said pausing briefly. “And like, even if I did think that stuff . . . it wouldn’t really matter? It’s not _their_ fault or anything and Hunk shouldn’t be feeling sorry about it . . . anyway?” He finished uncertainly; leaving a space that Allura assumed was for her opinion.

She turned over some words in her head, weighing whether she thought they were really a good idea. After considering her previous dealings with Lance, she decided ultimately that being blunt with Lance had worked better than anything else so far.

“But you don’t mean it,” She said decisively. Lance’s brow creased in confusion.

“You don’t mean it when you boast, or when you say you’re fine,” She clarified. “You don’t like to admit feeling bad about yourself so you hide it. No one sees what’s happening until you’ve dug yourself a hole and someone has to come fish you out.” Lance’s jaw dropped almost to the table, his expression gobsmacked. Under Allura’s steady gaze he pulled himself together a shifted through her words until they made sense and he flushed slightly.

“I know I make a mess of things,” he muttered. Allura shook her head and held up a hand to stop him.

“The problem is not with you, but with how you see yourself,” Allura explained softly. “The other paladins failed to notice you were hurting. They are regretful of that now, but the fault is on both sides. Despite all evidence to the contrary, you don’t think you are worth very much, and that kind of thinking can be very toxic, Lance. It obscures reality and leads us to be so caught up in ourselves that we miss, or misinterpret behaviour in other people.

Had you been thinking clearly, you would have seen that you are Hunk’s best friend, Pidge’s partner in crime, Shiro’s pupil and Keith’s . . . rival,” the last one drew a small smile out of Allura and a weak chuckle out of Lance. “They care for you just as clearly and deeply as they do each other, and I imagine it upsets them that you believed they wouldn’t want to know how you felt about them.”

Lance fell into a long contemplative silence after she finished, staring at his lap with a small frown back on his face. Allura gave him some space by returning to her tablet and waiting until he was ready to talk again. It was fair while away, as it turns out, and Allura was slightly surprised when Lance cleared his throat. Caught up in what she was doing, she had almost forgotten he was here.

“Okay,” he said. Allura raised an eyebrow.

“Okay?”

“Okay I see it. How do I fix it?” Lance asked quickly. “If it upsets them I don’t want to do it anymore. Be that way, I mean.” Allura interlocked her fingers thoughtfully, turning over a few ways of saying what she wanted to before deciding.

“I cannot tell you, because it depends on yourself,” She said carefully. “I would suggest, however,” she added, cutting across Lance’s protest, “Finding a different way to frame your insecurities so that you may look past them and see more clearly in the future. And perhaps learn to see those thoughts for what they are before they distract you from the truth. We all have doubts, Lance.”

She smiled somewhat ruefully here. _Oh,_ the doubts she had suffered since awakening had almost been enough to overwhelm her, princess or not.

 “Look at them a different way?” Lance questioned, frowning. Allura reached out one fingertip to smooth his brow flat with a fingertip, watching his mouth open in surprise. She smiled at him warmly.

“You’ll see, Lance. Once you learn to recognise the thoughts for what they are, it’s not as hard as you think to walk around them.”

Lance stood abruptly, clasping her hand and giving it a firm squeeze before heading to the couch and settling himself down like it was any other afternoon he had spent lounging around in background while Allura worked.

“Thanks Princess,” Lance said, and nothing else for the rest of the afternoon. Allura let him think in peaceful silence, and enjoyed the contemplative air in the room. She felt more relaxed than usual, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She had faith in Lance, and in the other paladins. They would figure this out.

.

“Pidge! Oh my god Pidge! Pidge! You have to hear this- Christ above- you have to- listen to this-”

Pidge looked over her shoulder to see Lance stumbling into the hanger at a run, red faced and spluttering through peals of laughter. Echoing behind him as he slid into the room and slammed the panel to close the door she could hear shouts of surprise and exclamations of disgust from a group of people.

Lance doubled over in front of her, hands on his knees, trying to regulate his panting and throwing himself back with every attempt as he giggled. Pidge felt her lips twitching in response, the prankster in her demanding she find out what great work of art had Lance (the king of pranks) in such hysterics that he couldn’t even describe to her the nature of his genius. This was worthy of her full attention. She put her pliers to the side and waited.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lance wheezed. Pidge sniggered.

“Take your time,” She said easily. Lance finally got himself under control and smirked, a spark in his eye that stirred a primitive desire in Pidge to rig a bucket of water over a door way.

“Okay, so you know the little alien guys from Delta 4B? They were bright green, yay high?”

Lance straightened up to demonstrate an alien as high as his chest.

“G’glerons?” Pidge suggested helpfully. Lance snapped his fingers and struck a pose like the goof he was.

“Exactly. Them. Do you remember that gooey stuff they had, that expands and sticks when it gets wet? Disintegrates when it dries? They used it to catch swamp monsters?”

“Yes.” Pidge’s face slowly broke into a smile. Lance starting bouncing from foot to foot in excitement as he forced the rest of his story out as quickly as possible.

“So Allura grabbed some of that before we left the system for scientific purposes and yesterday as I was helping Coran tidy up some storage rooms I came across a rather large tub full of Swamp monster nightmares  . . .” Lance trailed off, bouncing around so gleefully now that he needed to take a moment. Pidge didn’t mind.

“Yes, yes, yes,” She chanted in anticipatory delight. Lance nodded frantically.

“So I take a bucket, fill it with water, and balance some goo on top. Then I go back to the classics and rig the bucket to fall on the next person to walk into the kitchen and . . . our boys were just a little bit peckish it seems.”

“Which boys?” Pidge asked carefully.

Lance leaned in close. “All of them.”

“So they’re . . .?” Pidge began.

“Stuck to the walls,” Lance confirmed. “Except Coran, he’s glued to the floor.”

The two stared at each other for a moment. And then came the eruption. Pidge rolled onto her back clutching her stomach and howling. Lance doubled over again, sinking to his knees beside and crying just a little. It lasted a good three minutes before they calmed enough to speak.

“You have- you have to come see,” Lance stammered out eventually, when they were lying side by side on the ground, shoulder to shoulder. “It won’t stay wet for more than half an hour and I need pictures before Keith tries to pretend he’s too much of ninja to get gooed to the wall.”

Pidge, high on laughter, turned her head to the side and was overwhelmed by affection by Lance’s sparkly gaze. The doofus was _so_ proud of himself. She tilted her head forward to press her forehead against the lower part of Lance’s jaw.

“You’re probably gonna be in the dog house for a while,” She commented against his neck. Lance shivered involuntarily. “Worth it,” he decided easily. “Besides, I didn’t goo you.”

“And I’m definitely the best,” Pidge mused. Lance laughed again. More for the sound of it than anything else, Pidge thought as it echoed through the hanger. Lance had a nice laugh, full and happy and cheeky. She liked it a lot. She liked him a lot; this boy who was dumb and smart and glued people to walls for fun. Her heart ached for a moment when she considered how much different it had felt to not have Lance be a part of her the same way Hunk, Keith and Shiro were. The classic case of not knowing what you had been missing.

Lance felt her tense and tilted his head down into hers questioningly.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Pidge pulled away and sat up, rolling until she was balanced over Lance’s chest. She watched his eyes widen and his pupils blow up, felt a sharp intake of breath. Pidge frowned. She wasn’t good at this kind of thing. How to say what she wanted? _Just be honest._

“I like you,” She said. “A lot. And I’m sorry.”

Lance softened a slightly guilty look creeping in about his eyes. He opened his mouth but Pidge cut him off. She leaned down and kissed him softly. Lance started in surprise, but hummed happily when she ran a hand through his hair. Somewhat predictably, Lance was all about them pettings.

“Don’t,” she warned when they separated. Lance just shrugged, relaxed and cheerful.

“Alright,” he agreed easily. “I like you too.”

Pidge observed him for a moment longer and then nodded, satisfied. She rocked back onto her knees and stood, reaching out a hand to pull Lance up too.

“Awesome,” she decided. “Now let’s go get some quality snaps of those other dorks.”

.

“Aw man!”

So Lance just landed on his arse for the 20th time in one night and he’s gonna be honest- ouch. Also it’s gonna be hard to seduce Shiro after he finishes beating Lance to a pulp if his entire body is purple because ew no. Purple is bad and it should feel bad. He took the hand offered and let Shiro pull him to his feet with a sympathetic smile that Lance didn’t trust for a goddamned second (Shiro was a closet sadist- why else would he persist in beating up his boyfriendy-student?)

“Do you know what you did wrong that time?” Shiro asked after Lance was standing again. He didn’t let go of Shiro’s hand both because he didn’t want to, and as a pre-emptive measure against another surprise attack (Shiro was _sneaky_ ).

“Do I want to know?” Lance drawled.

“Your stance is still off,” Keith answered for him. Lance glanced over his shoulder because Keith had been training against bots on the other side of the deck and was now covered in sweat that made his surprisingly toned muscles glisten and mmm . . . . okay so his hormones might need to take a vacation to the Arctic and _chill out_.

“Exactly, thanks Keith. You don’t choose a foot to lead with when you close in and then when you meet resistance you have to actively decide how to organise your footing. It might only take a second but it’s throwing off your timing and slowing your reactions. You need to drill the right steps to take until it happens automatically and you don’t have to think about it and adjust later, see? Here I’ll show you what I mean . . .”

Lance nodded dutifully, eyes fixed dreamily on Shiro’s face now as he got really animated in his instruction and started acting out exercises for strengthening foot placement and balance. It was weird now to think of all the time he spent actively not looking at Shiro. All that gay panic and now it was taking (still noisier than he would have liked) backseat to some serious ogling. Oh man, if liking Shiro’s lips was gay then Lance was the gayest unicorn to ever hitch a ride on the candy corn cruise to the land of rainbows.

“-Lance?”

He started. Oh whoops Shiro’s stopped teaching. Probably expecting some learning on Lance’s part.

“Yep,” Lance said immediately. “Absolutely. One hundred percent. Let’s do this.”

Keith laughed slyly. Lance realised belatedly that Shiro had stopped explaining well before Lance had noticed. Shiro’s lips quirked and he tilted his head slightly. Lance shrugged in the way that someone does when they acknowledge fault but they’re not super sorry about it and grinned.

“What’d I miss?”

“I asked if you’d like Keith to give you a demonstration first,” Shiro said, face straight. Like he didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Like he didn’t know exactly which buttons he was pressing to launch a missile he likewise couldn’t identify ( _sneaky_ ). Keith, on the other hand, was blatantly an asshole at all times and smirked aggressively in the background.

“What do you say?” Keith asked slowly. “Should I give you a lesson on the _right_ way to take someone down?”

Lance blinked. Now some people might say there was such a thing as the ‘high-road’, as being ‘mature’, ‘grown-up’ or even- dare he say- ‘an adult’. But whelp, those were fighting words if he’d ever heard them. Guess they were doing this.

“I say anyone with a mullet has terrible decision-making skills and shouldn’t be allowed to teach anyone anything,” he fired back cheerfully. And then he launched himself at Keith without finesse and no intention of either of them remaining on their feet. Predictably they hit the ground in a pile of flailing limbs and laughingly hissed insults. When they finally rolled to a stop, Lance was sitting on top of Keith, pinning the other boy’s hands to the ground above his head. He was grinning so wide it hurt, even though his cheek throbbed where he’d taken a stray elbow to the face and he knew that Keith was letting himself be pinned.

Shiro was chuckling lightly off to the side, his gaze embarrassingly fond. Lance reddened despite his grin. Shiro was always being kind of embarrassingly indulgent of Lance at the moment. It was probably the only way they could work around each other without the heart to heart Lance refused to have with everyone in the castle. Luckily Shiro, like Lance was a bigger fan of working around his problems than confronting them so they’d come to a tacit agreement to let things lie.

Lance looked away before his face reddened and directed his most shit-eating grin at Keith (who on the other hand never seemed to have any problems to begin with).

“Is that a Bayard in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Keith groaned. And then groaned some more. Shiro also groaned.

“Oh my god that is probably the worst thing you have ever said to me.” He pushed Lance off him and sat up. Lance pretended to seriously consider something.

“Are you sure?” He inquired academically. “That’s a pretty tall order.”

Shiro laughed. “An impossibly tall order more like,” he interjected. “Pretty much everything you say is terrible.”

“I’ll say,” Keith muttered.

“Hey!” Lance demanded in mock outrage, grin fighting to break across his face. “First you insult my warrior skills and then you insult my integrity? What is this?”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “You’re getting better, there’s no need to insult your ‘warrior skills’.” The implied quotations drew a snigger out of Keith. Lance poked him in the side unthinkingly, poking again when Keith squawked and going down poking when Keith pushed him face first into the floor.

“Not good enough,” Lance sighed, surprising himself with the blatant honesty (surprising Shiro and Keith too, he suspected from the looks they gave him). He went floppy on the ground, face turned away from them. All this introspection had been getting to him it seemed. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that my integrity is still under question,” he threw in quickly.

“Can’t question something that doesn’t exist,” Keith replied after a moment of silence where Lance just _knew_ looks were exchanged above his head.

“And don’t beat yourself up because you can’t fight like me yet. It’s not your fault I was just born more talented.”

Keith’s trash talk had definitely improved, but as Lance hauled himself up for round two of the poke wars that wasn’t what was on his mind.

(Can’t fight like me _yet_ ).

.

 “Princess?”

“Yes, Lance?”

“I kind of like boys sometimes.”

Allura let out an incredibly unladylike snort, laughing at herself in the incredulously delighted silence from Lance that followed afterwards. Lance was stretched out as he lay on his stomach across the long couch in Allura’s favourite office, relaxed and open despite what he’d just revealed. The grin he directed at her was so sincere and strangely sweet (as Lance always was when all that bluster and joking faded into a sort of shy delight at being the centre of someone’s attention without having to work for it) that Allura’s laughter died away so she could smile back.

“Yes, I deduced as much,” she answered softly. Lance flushed at whatever he saw on her face and he buried himself in the couch cushions, hiding (strangely sweet enough to make Allura smile even wider) his face. There was a companionable silence that Allura enjoyed by flipping through pages of a novel on her tablet idly using one finger. The lore in the Altean archives for this particular system was somewhat lacking. She would have to rectify this before they left.

 Eventually she noticed Lance take a deep breath, as though bracing himself to say something, and made a questioning noise to encourage him.

“I don’t think I’m that great at piloting, I don’t think I’m a worthy paladin for blue, I don’t think I’m much of a warrior and I don’t think I deserve to be Hunk’s boyfriend, or Keith’s, or Pidge’s or Shiro’s. Also I pretend I think I’m all of those things.”

Allura was gobsmacked for a split second before she sputtered out the beginnings of a protest in an uncharacteristically chaotic manner, her poise shocked right out of her. Lance promptly bulldozed over her with something even more surprising.

“But I’m starting to get,” he said quietly, “That that’s not a good way to be, for you, or for the people around you. So instead I’ll say I’m not as good at those things as I want to be, right now, but I can and will be if I work at it later.” Allura was at a loss for words, so surprised was she that Lance had come to these conclusions by himself. Taking advantage of that silence Lance stood up and walked over to where she sat. He knelt down in front of her and took one of her hands, pressing his mouth to the back.

“Thanks Allura,” he murmured. “I know it- I, wasn’t easy. Idiot and all.”

Allura suddenly found herself slightly choked (and a little bit appalled that she now found Lance of people to be charming). Fighting back a more overly emotional response, she dropped the tablet in the hand not held by Lance, pulled him further up to her chest, and wrapped him in an abrupt hug.

Lance was very easy to hug. She supposed with a family like his he’d had a lot of practise. It had been a while since Allura had really hugged someone . . . it was nice. Lance seemed to think so too. He relaxed, all the tension he’d built up since he let himself open up flooding out of him as he wrapped one arm around her waist and leaned into her. Allura smiled warmly, even though he couldn’t see it.

“You are actually kind of smart sometimes,” she said quietly, a slight undercurrent of satisfaction coming through despite her voice being muffled into Lance’s shoulder. “And don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Langst.


End file.
